


Pas De Danse Autour

by starksnack



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Dance, Ballet, Ballet Dancer Steve Rogers, Ballet Dancer Tony Stark, Dirty Thoughts, Horny Steve Rogers, Jealous Steve Rogers, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, POV Steve Rogers, Pining, Protective Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers-centric, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 07:49:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17361944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starksnack/pseuds/starksnack
Summary: It's Steve Rogers' first day at the Manhattan Dance Academy and the casting director for the upcoming performance has told him to seek out the Male Lead Soloist Tony Stark for help with his fouettes. Unfortunately Steve gets distracted and finds himself whipped in more ways than one. (It's funny because fouette means whipped in French.)Just Steve being horny on main. But it's Tony Stark so who could blame him?





	Pas De Danse Autour

**Author's Note:**

> I could not have done this without my whole troupe of betas. Can we get a bow from for [Abby](https://www.instagram.com/infinxty.patronum/), who is a ballerina and made sure all the technical stuff was down. And a round of applause for my two betas [Annonie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonWrites/pseuds/AnonWrites) and [Fernanda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arewegroot/pseuds/Arewegroot) who added commas, battled my craziness, and made sure this thing made sense to people who weren't me.

“Hey, my name is Steve Rogers and I moved here from Brooklyn a couple of months ago.”

The short brunet, Tony he hoped, arched a perfectly plucked, dark eyebrow. He was wearing a soft looking blue-grey leotard that left absolutely nothing to the imagination, lithe muscles and miles of warm, tan skin on full display. His expensive-looking, Russian black pointe shoes were crossed over his shins and laced into perfectly even knots at his mid-calf. Steve was so floored by his appearance that he barely even registered him opening his perfect pink lips to speak. 

“And you’re talking to me because?”

And wow,  _ rude much? _ But Steve brushed it off making sure his suddenly plastic smile stayed plastered on his face. For someone so unbelievably attractive, his personality sure was ugly. Steve tried not to grit his teeth in distaste as he fixed his eyes on Tony’s burning whisky gaze. “Fury told me that you’re the team’s male lead soloist?”

Steve revelled in the rosy beginnings of a blush rising on Tony’s neck, but a red-headed ballerina stepped in front of him before he could explain anything more. Her icy green glare and dark pink tutu were the only things that he registered before she was spewing vicious vitriol faster than Steve’s brain could even comprehend. She was undoubtedly beautiful in flesh-tone flat shoes and a graphite black leotard, her pale skin a sharp contrast to her startling emerald eyes. When her words finally caught up to him, she was stabbing a sharp, red-painted nail into his pectoral, “ — if you’re just here to give Tony shit for his part as Odette in our upcoming production of Swan Lake, you can fuck right off.”

“No,” Steve’s hands immediately shot up as his face screwed up in confusion. Why would anyone give Tony trouble for taking such a revered role? It wasn’t his style, he was much too bulky for the delicate moves, but Steve would have been honoured to play such an important part had he gotten one which he desperately tried to convey, “Fury just told me that I needed to perfect my fouetté in order to be on par with the other dancers and that Tony could help.” Steve understood why now; anyone cast as Odette had to be able to do a 32-turn fouette.

“Nat, stand down,” Tony set a hand on the redhead, Nat’s, shoulder, smiling at her. And wow, Steve could forget his earlier hostility if Tony grinned like that again. His delicious pink lips parted beautifully across pearly white teeth, dimples appearing in his cheeks. “You said you need help with your fouettés?”

“Yes please , ” Steve eyed Natasha warily as he shot Tony a hopeful smile. He wrung his hands together betraying his own nerves.

“You should have led with that,” Tony rolled his eyes as if it were the most obvious thing in the world before clapping a hand on Steve’s shoulder companionably. “Stay after class, I usually reserve an extra thirty minutes to practice on my own, but you know what they say, the more the merrier.” Tony winked at him before spinning on his heel and heading to the front of the studio to lead the small group of dancers through quick warm-ups. He grabbed a remote to flick on a stereo in the corner, before starting with simple stretches.

The music probably surprised Steve the most. At his old dance studio, Chopin, or another famous dead guy’s pieces would blast over the speakers just loud enough to keep them from being bored to death. Sometimes 2Cellos if the instructor was feeling unusually lenient, and Mr. Pierce rarely was. Tony’s warm-up music was a complete diametrical opposition; it was full of heavy bass, wailing guitars, and screaming that could barely pass as a melody. It sounded like rock music, a stark contrast to the steady calm of Tony’s face and the relaxed line of his shoulders. It was so different from the upbeat pop anthems and smooth jazz that Steve listened to in his free time.

The warm ups were simple: first position, saute, second position then changement. Nothing Steve hadn’t done a thousand times back in Brooklyn. Unfortunately, Tony set a brutal pace that left even Steve a little breathless. He hadn’t felt this way since the asthma that plagued his childhood. It also kind of annoyed Steve that Tony didn’t participate in the majority of the warm-ups targeted at raising heart rate, but he soon forgot all about his irritation when they started stretching because Tony’s ass looked fantastic in his leotard.

Steve tried not to stare, he was an adult, and he had to be professional. Maybe if he was a fourteen year old horny virgin ballerino that had only ever known his right hand, this kind of behaviour would be forgivable. Despite trying to tear his gaze away, Steve found himself transfixed with Tony’s thighs as he touched his toes and then wrapped his arms around his calves to bring his head to his knees. Steve noted with a burning blush that he was very flexible. He couldn’t help himself , especially when Tony led the dancers into splits, his wiry thighs flexing deliciously as he leaned forward to stretch out his back. Steve’s mind briefly got away from him and he found himself wondering what Tony’s olive skin would look like littered with purpling love bites.

Steve forced himself to think of other things. Things that wouldn’t mean a downward spiral into rock hard territory. His best friend, Bucky, being deployed. His ex girlfriend, Peggy, dumping him to move to England. Anything but how perfectly Steve would fit between Tony’s thighs.

The warm-ups helped take his mind off of Tony so he could focus on keeping his breathing under control. He didn’t want to embarrass himself by looking weak on the first day of class.

Finally, fifteen minutes in when Steve was just reaching the wrong side of breathless, Tony allowed them a two minute water break. Steve wanted to ask him if that was how classes normally started but when he looked towards him, Tony was busy talking to a tall blonde girl in a green tank top and pixie blue tights.

Steve tried not to look, but then he noticed that the girl’s lip was wobbling and tears were trailing down her red-rubbed cheeks. Tony had a concerned hand on her shoulder and a worried look on his face to match. Was she his girlfriend? Steve was so occupied with the guilty heat swarming in his chest -- and wow, he had only just met the guy -- that he missed Natasha until she was crushing his foot under her heel, too hard to be an accident.

He let out a whine followed by a pained huff, flexing his foot and wiggling all his toes as best he could in the confinement of his shoe. It wasn’t a move meant to injure him, more of a warning Steve guessed, but he got the message loud and clear; he would not be capable of dancing if he got on her shit list. He looked down at the dusty footprint across the laces of his shoe, hoping he wouldn’t need to ice it.

“I’m watching you, Steve Rogers,” Natasha glared, green eyes blazing as she narrowed her gaze at him. Steve could only stare slack-jawed and dumbfounded at her bouncing curls as she turned her head, striding off to find her friends.

He felt small fingers brushing against the curve of his back and he turned into the pressure to find Tony, his brows pulled into a concerned furrow that made him look absolutely adorable. “Did Nat just step on your foot?” 

“She’s very protective of you,” Steve rolled his ankle feeling a slight twinge of pain rocket up his calf. He tried to hide the wince but Tony’s concerned look told him he didn’t do it very well. Maybe he would have to ice it after all. It was a childish move, but Natasha had sent a crystal clear message.

Tony sighed through his nose, amusement quirking at his lips as he reached around Steve for his water bottle. It was an odd sleek black container that had an unusual spring loaded cap. He took a swig and Steve watched transfixed as his throat bobbed with a swallow. He wiped his mouth carelessly with the back of his hand before tilting the open bottle toward Steve with a smirk. “Want some?”

“I’ve got my own, thanks,” Steve shook his clear plastic bottle, watching the water swirl around. It was kinda nerdy with a sticker of Captain America’s shield plastered across. Steve had gotten it from his dad and he loved it to death.

Tony simply laughed and Steve loved how the melodic sound washed over him in waves. He would do anything to hear it again. “Bold of you to assume I’m drinking water.”

And with that, he tapped his water bottle against Steve’s with a resounding clink before setting it back down on the bench and heading to the front of the studio to resume class.

*******

“It’s simple physics,” Tony claimed as he demonstrated three fouettés in a row and Steve tried to keep himself from drooling at the muscular expanse of Tony’s calves. That would be really unprofessional Steve thought as he dragged his gaze across Tony’s strong shoulders.

“You think physics is simple?” Steve answered while he settled into second position and quirked a playful brow at him. Of course Tony was the cocky kind of person who would find physics easy and expect everyone else to be on par with him.

Tony only rolled his eyes with a chuckle as though Steve had made a funny joke. “So you push off with your left foot to generate torque.” It was fascinating how Tony spoke with his hands gesticulating wildly as he explained. Steve found it hard not to get distracted by his toned biceps. “With muscles like yours, you probably don’t struggle with that...,” the mumbled words were so fast that Steve would have missed it had he not been staring at Tony’s perfectly plump lips. He had noticed that Tony bit them when he was focusing and he didn’t know what to do with the knowledge. Steve did, however, know what he should  _ not _ do and he resisted the urge to glare down pointedly at himself. He forced himself to focus on the words passing Tony’s lips. “...you’ll probably struggle with maintaining rotation.”

Steve tested it out straightening his back, raising his left arm in front of him, and his right arm up at his side. He pushed into the turn with way too much force, wobbling out of it half a spin later with a frustrated frown. “That was too much force,” he pouted.

“Yeah, it was,” Tony was behind him and Steve suddenly felt delicate fingertips against the base of his spine. He resisted the shiver that promised to rocket down his spine at the barest of contact. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” Steve didn’t hesitate to respond and was rewarded with Tony slipping his hands around his waist. Tony’s fingers were small but calloused with what Steve guessed was some form of manual labour. His nails were trimmed as neat as the rest of him with the attention of someone who clearly cared deeply about their appearance. Steve wondered how they’d look in his hand. Or even better, wrapped around his-

“Try a fouetté,” Tony instructed interrupting Steve’s thoughts. His voice had dropped a little lower, and Steve was glad he wasn’t the only one affected by their close proximity.

Steve did as directed. His balance was a little skewed, but Tony’s steady hands circling his waist kept him from tipping out of the spin like he normally did and gave him a feel of how to distribute his weight. He made it all the way around, only stopping when his tucked knee brushed against Tony’s thigh. Was this what it felt like to touch an angel?  “Was that good?”

“Yeah, that was great.” Tony dropped his hands, and Steve immediately felt cold at the loss. He resisted the urge to pout as his inner self threw a mini temper-tantrum. “Do it again, your center of gravity should be right here.” He pressed his fingers against Steve’s stomach just under his navel sending a shiver down his spine.

Steve swept his arms out to steady his balance as he pushed off his left foot and tucked it beside his knee. He pulled his arms close to his chest and spun a couple of times before he felt his center of gravity slip as he fell out of the turn. 

“I don’t know how to keep spinning.” Steve stared at his toes miserably, he could still see the faint print of Nat’s heel. He didn’t want Tony to be disappointed in him even though they had only just met. Steve needed to make Tony grin, to feel that rush of pride at being the reason such a beautiful smile was being directed at him.

Tony drew his gaze up with a gentle hand on Steve’s shoulder. He almost shivered under Tony’s piercing brown eyes as he sincerely stressed, “That was still good Steve. You’re off to a strong start.” He slowly slid his hand down Steve’s arm to his fingers before dropping his hand entirely leaving Steve reaching for him. “Momentum retention is hard. That’s why you have to generate new torque every couple of turns.” Tony stepped back drawing his hands away from his body and effortlessly pushing into the turn.

It took a lot of willpower for Steve to pull his eyes away from the hypnotic sight of Tony’s muscular back, blinking in and out of view, and focus on his small feet. Every five or so turns, Tony’s supporting foot flattened and his arms swept out as he pushed off the ground to generate new torque. It was such a quick movement that Steve missed it completely when he got distracted by the muscles of Tony’s thighs as his spin leg swung out for half a second before being tucked back beside his knee. Then again, Steve would miss the end of the world if he was staring at Tony’s muscular thighs when it happened. Steve could just imagine those strong legs thrown over his shoulders as he plowed-.

Steve shook himself out of his thoughts to find Tony standing before him, in a loose second position, slightly winded. Steve scrambled to think of anti-vaxxers, people who didn’t pay taxes, and Donald Trump, whatever it took to get the blood flowing north because hiding anything in a restricting dance belt would be horribly painful. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, heart condition,” Tony explained with a dismissive wave. Steve flashed back to Tony sitting out warm-ups with the burn of understanding. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Water break?” Steve suggested already heading for his bag. He was pleased to find Tony following him without hesitation instead of arguing.

Tony grabbed his water bottle and, Steve watched as he took a couple of sips before offering it to Steve. Not wanting to be left in his curiosity Steve took a sip finding an interesting combination of tastes sliding across his tongue. “Wow, it tastes like metal,” but not in a bad way, Steve decided as he smacked his lips feeling a fruity burst across his tongue. “And coconut.”

“Yeah, it’s chlorophyll, iron supplements, protein powder, and coconut milk.” Tony rattled off the list of ingredients with years of experience in his words. “It’s really good for being alive,” he trailed off his gaze dropping to the floor.

Steve nodded watching discomfort flit across Tony’s features and changed the subject. “So I have to put my right heel down and push off again to get more spin?” Steve set down his water bottle and moved to try it again.

“Don’t forget, you want your left leg to sweep out with your arms and then pull everything back in close to your body.” Tony put his bottle down beside Steve’s and demonstrated the move in slow motion.

Steve was able to do it almost perfectly after that demonstration, getting nine complete rotations in before he decided to quit while he was ahead and stop instead of falling out of the turn when he inevitably lost his balance. “Wow,” Steve whispered surprised at himself. He did it again amazed at how easy it was now that he understood what he had been doing wrong. He focused on the ghost of Tony’s fingers against his stomach as he held his center of gravity

See the proud grin break out on Tony’s face made it a thousand times better as Steve finished in a loose second position with an exhilarated smile. He looked down at his feet in awe before swinging his gaze back up to Tony.

“Let’s get celebratory smoothies,” Tony strolled back over to the bench taking another swig of his drink before bending over to undo the knots of his shoes. Steve had to forcefully draw his eyes away from Tony’s ass to think about what he had suggested.

“Smoothies?” Steve sat beside him bringing his foot up on to the bench to work his shoe off.

“Yeah, there’s a kick-ass smoothie bar downstairs,” Tony tucked his shoes into a dark red duffel bag before shimmying into a grey pair of sweatpants with Stark Industries printed up the side.

Steve hurried to slide into his own black track pants and shoes, throwing a blue sweatshirt over his leotard. He grabbed his bag trying not to get distracted by the sway of Tony’s hips as he followed him to the stairwell.

Tony’s naked feet slapped down the stairs as they headed toward the juice bar and Steve found that he quite enjoyed Tony’s surprising eccentricities. That and the strong line of Tony’s back as his shoulders flexed to push open the door at the bottom of the stairwell.

As far as smoothie bars went, this one was pretty homey. Plush polyblend couches lined the room with a bar smelling of tropical fruit in the center. High windows along the back wall let in the dim light from the street above.

“I’m having a mango surprise, emphasis on the surprise, blondie can order whatever he wants,” Tony passed over his card, a black Amex Steve noticed with a raised brow, before stepping back to let Steve order his drink.

“Something with apples in it? Maybe oranges if you have them?” Steve blushed glancing over the menu as the cashier smiled at him, “I’ve never been here before.”

Tony pressed a hand to his shoulder leaning around him to speak to the barista, “He’ll have the apple of my eye.” He turned to Steve assuring him, “You’ll love it, I promise.”

They waited at the bar for their drinks before Tony led them to a pink couch in the corner where they sat together but far enough apart that they could face each other and talk.

Steve took a sip of his drink and was pleasantly surprised in Tony’s choice. It was exactly what he wanted, a smooth blend of apple and orange with a hint of strawberry and what tasted like a kick of cayenne pepper. It was perfect, just the right amount of sweet with a dark hint of spicy. “This is fantastic,” Steve stared down at his drink incredulously.

“Yeah, they make the best smoothies,” Tony said and then held out his, “Want to try some of mine?”

Steve leaned forward, keeping his eyes on Tony as he pulled the straw into his mouth. He was surely surprised at the sharp burn of vodka on his tongue chased by the soothing mango and hints of tangerine. He pulled away, taking a couple of sips of his own smoothie to chase away the fire. “Wow.”

Tony chuckled bringing the straw to his mouth with a slow pull. Steve zeroed in on his pink, wet lips circled around the straw. He tried to focus on what Tony was saying. “Surprising isn’t it?”

Steve shook his head trying to clear it. “Sure is,” he agreed and rubbed at his sternum trying to get rid of the burn, “That smoothie could grow hair on anyone’s chest.”

Tony laughed outright at that and Steve wanted to bottle up the melody forever. He had only just met Tony, and he could already feel a massive crush growing.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Tony pulled his feet up under him, resting his elbow on the back of the couch and leaning dangerously close, chocolate eyes mischievous, “So tell me Brooklyn, is this a first date?”

“It might be.” Steve looked up at Tony from under his lashes a blush crawling up his cheeks. He glanced down at his smoothie, ice cubes melting in his glass, “I’d like it to be.”

“Good.” 

Faster than he could react, Tony pressed a fleeting kiss to his cheek before standing and grabbing his duffle, “I’ll see you here tomorrow at seven for a second one.” With a wink, he made a beeline for the exit, Steve’s eyes fixed on his ass until he pushed open the door, turned to look at a dazed Steve, and laughed at his transfixed expression.

Tony Stark was going to be a wild ride.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Be sure to hit me up with a kudos and drop your commends on what you liked, disliked, and want to see in the future. I love every single one of you! snugs  
> Please note: I am a jazz dancer so I do all my fouettes en flat, if I made mistakes regarding how ballet works (I haven't studied it since I was smol) please be gentle with me, I'm sorry, tell me how I can make it better.  
> The fic title translates to "no dancing around" which is a line from [Jour 1 by Louanne](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yleB8fUXudw) which honestly gives me such SteveTony vibes. If you're into French music, I would definitely recommend giving it a listen.  
> Come yell at me on [tumblr](https://starksnack.tumblr.com/)!


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